Sick
by Peachuzoid
Summary: As Daryl's health takes a turn for the worse, the others fear for his life.
1. Chapter 1

_**TWD Kinkmeme Prompt:**__ So I know there's been fics where Daryl's gotten sick, but it seems like they're all either incomplete (so sad) or they're painfully short and barely touch on the illness. So I'm gonna request another one. Please someone take this up! I just want him to get really sick and the others are scared he might die and lots of h/c and angst. No slash please. Virtual chocolate chip cookies to anyone who fills!_

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own any part of The Walking Dead. This is for entertainment purposes only.

**A/N:** So yeah. I've been working on this. Figured I might as well post it here too. Y'all probably think I hate Daryl or something since I feel like I'm constantly beating him up. I just like the whole angst and h/c thing.

* * *

It had been a couple weeks now since the war with the Governor and the addition of the Woodbury citizens. Everything was in full swing with the extra twenty or so bodies around, everyone working together to clean up the prison and make it a safe environment. There was an added strain on the group as they tried to accommodate the best they could. Rick couldn't just leave all of those people behind though. Since they lost their original leader, they were in need of new guidance—Rick figured he could give them just that. He knew it would be hard work to get everything going at first but hoped things would change soon after.

Having everyone crammed into the same cell block was less than ideal but D Block was still a work in progress. Everyone took shifts when it came to supply runs, taking watch, cooking, and cleaning up. Not a day went by that they didn't make a large dent in their progress. Even the elderly folk were doing all they could to help, bless their hearts.

Another day came and went as evening had fallen upon them once again. Beth and Carol worked together with Karen and a couple other ladies from Woodbury to serve what they had prepared for dinner while the others crowded around in light conversation. Rick slightly bounced his daughter in his arms, one hand bracing her bottom while the other was planted firmly across her back. Things might have looked like they were working out but truth be told, there was still just as much tension now than ever.

Carl was becoming harder and harder to reach out to and the more Rick tried, the more he felt like he was failing as a parent. He was just starting to really wrap his head around Lori being gone, no longer seeing her image haunt his mind. Then making the discovery that Tyreese and his small group had joined Woodbury in hopes of survival and having lost two of their members, Rick couldn't help but think that those deaths were on him. He should have never pushed them away in the first place.

But Daryl? Daryl was a whole other story.

The group had noticed he was wearing down more and more with each day, avoiding everyone more than he often did—even Carol. Rick had brought it up in a brief discussion one day with the woman and they had both settled on the conclusion that this was all falling back on what had happened to Merle, the Governor still out there somewhere waiting to strike. But anytime someone tried to comfort Daryl or try to get him to open up a little, talk about whatever he was going through, he shrunk back and pushed them away. So it left Rick and the others to assume that he was doing okay, doing whatever he needed to do and grieving in his own way.

It was when Daryl's health started to take a noticeable turn that it concerned the others. Rick had been so occupied chasing down Carl and helping with the Woodbury citizens that he had failed to notice the signs sooner. Hell, everyone had failed to notice sooner with everything that was going on around them.

Daryl hung back most of the time. He never really came around much when it involved the people of Woodbury, he wasn't eating, and when he did make an appearance, he always had his arms crossed in front of his chest in an attempt to hide the shivering that was coursing through his body.

When he seemed to disappear though, the group panicked. They tried to keep quiet about it, not wanting to alert the townspeople of Woodbury and spook them. Rick rounded up Glenn, Tyreese, Maggie, and Sasha as they searched through the prison in hopes of finding Daryl. Rick felt a pit of guilt building. He should have seen this sooner, should have known that something was wrong.

Rick thought to check the generator room—the room Merle was last seen in before taking off to face the Governor and ultimately sacrificed his life for the prison group to have a fighting chance. Rick swallowed down the bile that rose into his throat at the thought. He never really thought too much about it at the time but he owed his life to Merle. That chance was better than nothing and it delayed the Governor from marching straight to the prison.

The only thing was… Daryl was nowhere to be found in that room. The room was completely empty, just as it had been left.

* * *

After meeting up with the others and sharing the same news that Rick had discovered—no Daryl to be found—Rick decided to run outside and check the guard towers. By this time, Carol and Beth had caught wind of what was going on and came to help. They split up and checked some of the remaining towers that were left after the attack from Woodbury. Those who didn't checked around the perimeter for any sign of Daryl. All of the vehicles were accounted for but wherever he was, he had his crossbow.

Rick ran up the steps to the tower Michonne was taking watch in and burst through the door, half startling the woman. Panting to try and catch his breath, he put his hands up as if to calm her down. "Have you seen Daryl? We can't find him anywhere inside the prison."

Michonne shook her head, "Haven't seen any movement since I've been out here. It's been quiet."

Rick rested his hands on his hips. He was still at a loss. "Alright… Well if you see him can you let someone know?"

"Will do," Michonne replied, sliding her katana back into the sheath.

Rick ran down the stairs and made his way over towards the next tower. He wasn't about to give up on searching. At this rate, he wouldn't be able to go back inside and get some rest until he at least located Daryl—the one man, who if he didn't want to be found, was nearly impossible to find.

But as Rick threw the door open to the next guard tower, he sighed in relief. Daryl hadn't taken off after all, the worry that he went after the Governor subsiding. That worry was soon replaced with a new worry though as he noticed Daryl hadn't stirred from the noise Rick had made barging his way up the steps and through the door. He was curled up on the floor, crossbow propped against the wall, with his back facing toward Rick.

"Daryl?" Rick tried calling out his name, slowly approaching the hunter. Daryl still didn't stir as Rick noticed his breathing sounded a bit raspy.

Advancing with caution, dreading what could be the possible reasoning behind all of this, Rick stooped down beside Daryl. He reached out and placed his hand on the man's bicep to gently shake him but froze when he realized he was burning up, let alone seemingly passed out.

Daryl was easily the most observant of the bunch and definitely the lightest sleeper Rick had ever encountered. The fact that Daryl had excluded himself from the others without a word, burning up, and not stirring at the sounds and touch of Rick's hand had Rick completely beside himself. There was a sinking feeling in his gut as he thought to leave Daryl long enough to find the others and at least let them know he had found him. But he couldn't bring himself to pull away from him.

"Daryl," Rick tried again, this time lightly jostling the man's arm. Receiving no sign of acknowledgment once again, Rick carefully rolled him over onto his back to check for a walker bite. Only he finally got some movement out of him.

As soon as Daryl had landed on his back, he immediately slammed the palms of his hands down as if he thought he was falling, his eyes wide with panic for just a brief moment staring back at Rick.

"Hey, hey—it's just me. We've all been looking for you. Had us worried," Rick began. Daryl placed an arm across his eyes. "What's going on with you?" Rick stared at him as Daryl shifted around a bit, trying to get comfortable on the hard floor.

"Ain't nothing goin' on… Jus'… wanted some fresh air," Daryl mumbled from under his arm.

Rick frowned, "You're burning up. And you've been doing a mighty fine job of avoiding everyone lately."

Daryl lowered his arm enough to force a miserable looking glare at Rick, "I ain't bit."

Rick shook his head, "That's not what I said." Though he was glad Daryl came forward and put that fear to rest. But that news only meant one thing then: Daryl was sick. It didn't come as a surprise with the way things had been going lately. Daryl hadn't exactly been taking care of himself. Rick rubbed at the stubble on his chin, "When was the last time you ate something? Why don't you just come on down and—"

"Not hungry," Daryl cut him off, rolling back over to his side.

Rick had known Daryl to be stubborn but this was a whole new level of stubborn in the book of Daryl Dixon. Rick wasn't quite sure what to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I apologize if everything seems choppy. Transferring from the kinkmeme to here doesn't work so well. Or vice versa really. And thanks to the few of you who reviewed, followed, and/or favorited. I appreciate it.

* * *

When Daryl first awoke, the reaction that Rick had received from the man only made his heart sink. Daryl definitely had a sickly appearance with a sheen of sweat covering his face and his cheeks flushed. It wasn't typical for Daryl to run off without a word and sleep—if it could even be called that. Rick was almost certain Daryl hadn't even slept since he found Merle, and now he was refusing to even get up.

Rick doubted there was anything he could do to help Daryl by himself. He needed to get him back inside and get him to eat and drink a little something before he was even worse off.

And so with that on his mind, he was finally able to make himself turn around and leave. He figured he would find the others and let them know, maybe get Glenn or Tyreese to help him get Daryl back inside. It was starting to get late now. The Woodbury civilians would be in bed before long and that would give Rick the time and space to be able to sneak Daryl in without worrying anyone.

As Rick descended the stairs and made it back outside, he glanced up at the tower Michonne was in. He caught her staring down at him as he waved, his attempt at letting her know Daryl had been located, Michonne nodding in return. Rick rounded the corner and headed off in the direction he last saw Maggie and Glenn. Once he spotted them, he waved them over as they all met halfway.

"You found him?" Maggie questioned as she studied Rick's face for the answer.

"He's up in the east guard tower. He… doesn't look too good. I was hoping I could have you find the others and let them know. Glenn and I can bring him down?" Rick looked to Glenn as the young man nodded instantaneously.

"Okay, I'll do that." Maggie bit her lip before taking off to locate Tyreese, Beth, Carol, and Sasha.

* * *

Daryl hardly registered that Rick was there, so needless to say, he didn't even realize that the man left. All he wanted was to be left alone, to get away from the others so that they didn't bother him. But he had a feeling Rick would be back and most likely with help. That man could never leave well enough alone.

He needed sleep—that was all there was to it. He was exhausted, weak, and furthermore, sick. He didn't get sick very often but anytime he had in the past, sleep was the one thing that always came through for him. He just needed to sleep it off and he'd, eventually, wake up feeling like himself again.

Another wave of nausea hit unexpectedly as Daryl rolled onto his stomach and buried his face into his arms, gagging. A slight involuntary moan escaped his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't remember a time when he felt _this_ bad before. And of course it had to happen now of all times with the dead walking around and the Governor out there most likely plotting his attack.

The Governor.

_Merle_…

Daryl forced himself up on his hands and knees before making a futile attempt at getting back on his feet. Damn, if this wasn't pathetic. He reached out and grabbed the crossbow to try and use it as a sort of leverage. Luckily it worked as he stumbled against the wall to catch himself and dropped the crossbow in the process. He almost thought about leaving the damn thing and head down the stairs without it. _That_ was how pathetic he was feeling. But he sucked it up. Trying to make the decision between holding his stomach or his head, he rested an arm across his abdomen and clutched his side as he bent over to grab the weapon.

Once he righted himself, his vision swam as black dots raced in front of him. He threw his back against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut once again before his knees could buckle. He was a hell of a lot worse off than he originally thought. Just thinking about trying to descend the stairs had him reconsidering lying back down. At least walkers couldn't get to him up there if some had managed to get through the fence somehow. Lord knows he was in no shape to try fighting any off.

Daryl made it half way down the stairs before he felt like he was about to pass out. With the crossbow slung over his shoulder, he gripped onto the railing and took a few deep breaths. "C'mon. It's just a few damn steps. Pull yourself together, Dixon."

He had just made it out the door of the guard tower when another wave of nausea hit him, crumpling him to the ground with a bout of dry heaves. He hadn't had much of anything to eat over the past few days. Each time his body convulsed with an attempt to expel his already empty stomach, his head throbbed that much more, pulsating. He was shaking, just barely managing to keep himself up on all fours, his arms threatening to give out from under him.

His chest burned, his stomach ached, and his head felt like it was about to explode. What more could possibly go wrong?

As he began to regain control of his own body, Daryl vaguely made out the sound of someone calling his name. He glanced over just enough to see Rick and Glenn jogging at a rather brisk pace towards him as though he were in some kind of danger. Hell, maybe he was but there wasn't anything they could do to help.

Daryl forced himself back to his feet, spitting off to the side while holding his head. It was humiliating enough knowing they had just seen him hunched over on the ground puking his guts out. Or at least his body was trying to.

Rick and Glenn were at his side now, both of them looking rather concerned. Rick looked like he was waiting on a response out of him as Glenn was glancing back and forth between the two. Shit, had Rick said something?

"What?" Daryl tried to keep a bite to his voice but as soon as he spoke, he realized it sounded more like a weak bark. He was just fine. All he needed was some rest. He'd have to start feeling better soon because he had his own duties to fulfill. With all those damn people from Woodbury taking shelter in the prison with them… the people who were calling for his blood, calling for his death right alongside Merle. He couldn't help but think that maybe they were finally getting their wish now… However, with that addition, they were in need of a lot more food than usual and the responsibilities fell back on Daryl because he was the only one who knew how to hunt. If only the cards were reversed and they could just toss the worthless inhabitants to the walkers—they were all guilty by association for all Daryl was concerned.

"Let's get back inside. You can lie down and get some rest," Rick repeated himself since Daryl hadn't caught him the first time. He just barely registered Rick's words again, his head bobbing in a slight nod before everything went black.

* * *

Rick saw it coming. He could sense there was still something off about Daryl. Though he was standing right in front of him, his mind seemed to be trapped somewhere else. Daryl wasn't entirely responsive, he was only half there. And when he started to collapse, Rick was already on the move to grab him.

Rick and Glenn each took an arm as they supported Daryl's weight between them. Glenn offered to come back outside to grab his crossbow as long as they got him inside and situated somewhere safe first.

It was Rick's idea to head over to D Block, figuring that was as good a place as any to let Daryl rest. They had been working on getting that cell block cleaned up anyhow and it kept a distance from the people of Woodbury. No one could raise questions if they didn't know what was going on. They'd get Daryl laid down on one of the mattresses and find Hershel. Surely Hershel would know the next plan of action.

"How long has he been like this?" Glenn glanced over at Rick as they made their way into the cellblock.

Rick sighed in defeat, "I don't know. I didn't realize he was this bad. I could tell there was something different about him but this?" He paused and shook his head. "I would have never have seen this coming."

Carol and Maggie had snuck into the cellblock shortly after Glenn and Rick, having caught sight of them fumbling down the hall prior. Both women kept silent as they stepped around the men and pulled a mattress out of one of the cells and into the opening of the room.

"Nobody else should be in here besides our own. And Daryl isn't too fond of 'sleeping in a cage'," Carol recalled Daryl's words from the first night they had spent in the prison some months ago.

Rick thanked them for dragging a mattress out as he and Glenn eased Daryl down onto his back. "What about Hershel?"

"He's on his way," Maggie replied.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I feel like it goes without saying but figured I might as well say it: I'm not a medical professional by any means.

* * *

A few minutes passed in what was mostly silence before the clacking of Hershel's crutches could be heard reverberating off the bare walls. The old man made his way over to everyone, the look of concern evident on each face that was present. "What seems to be the problem?"

"We were hoping you could tell us," Rick began. "I found him like this up in one of the guard towers. Glenn and I got him in here just after he passed out."

Hershel frowned as he looked down at Daryl's unconscious form splayed out on the mattress. He managed as best he could to lower himself onto the ground with Maggie's assistance since they opted to drag the mattress out of the cell for Daryl's sake. Hershel reached out a hand to Daryl's forehead before moving to the inside of his wrist to check his pulse. "Well, he certainly has a high fever though there's no telling how high. Does anyone know how long this has been going on?"

Everyone exchanged glances before coming to the guilty conclusion that no one had any idea. Daryl had made sure to keep his distance from everyone and it all made sense now. Perhaps he didn't think he was that bad himself, or maybe he didn't want to burden anyone with his illness. Since he hadn't been around all that much it left everyone in the dark about his health.

Rick glimpsed back down at Daryl. He was drenched in sweat as if he had just run a marathon, burning up with however high a fever he had. Rick concluded that he must be nauseated to some extent as well seeing as he was reduced to all fours on the ground and gagging before he and Glenn could make it to him earlier.

"Maybe I can get him some food and water?" Carol offered for when Daryl would wake and come back to them in the conscious world. The assumption was that he wouldn't be out cold for too long.

"That sounds like a start," Hershel nodded. "Maggie, do you think you could find something to hold some water and a washcloth of some sort? We'll need to try and bring his temperature down if it's as high as I'm willing to bet. And any ibuprofen or aspirin if there is any."

Maggie and Carol left together to return to C Block and retrieve what they needed. In the meantime, Hershel appeared to be deep in thought as Rick and Glenn watched his every move.

"Is there anything else we can do?" Glenn asked.

"I'm afraid not. At least not at this very moment. We'll have to wait and see how he is once he wakes up." Hershel furrowed his brow, "How was he, mentally? Did he seem confused at all?"

"Maybe a little," Rick confessed. "He didn't seem like he was all there."

There was a sudden sharp inhale from Daryl as everyone's attention was drawn back to him. Daryl shifted slightly, rolling to his side, curled up and shivering.

"What's going on? What's wrong with him?" Glenn was the first to ask, switching his gaze from Daryl to Hershel and back.

* * *

As Maggie and Carol entered into C Block, Carol went straight for whatever she could find appropriate food wise and a glass of water while Maggie pilfered through what medicine they had. She smiled in relief when she found a bottle of ibuprofen almost immediately, knowing it was probably the safest choice anyway. Though ibuprofen had its complications, aspirin seemed to be worse off and acetaminophen could cause liver damage in high doses. Considering its use was going to be for Daryl's fever more likely than anything else, ibuprofen was the best bet.

"What's going on? Where is everybody?" Beth approached her sister with Judith snuggled in her arms. Judith had become harder to put to bed now that she had started teething and Beth had no trouble keeping the little bundle wrapped in her arms in an attempt to soothe her.

"Daryl's sick," Maggie filled her in briefly. She pocketed the bottle of pills and searched for something she could put some water in after snatching a washcloth. "Do you know what we could use to—"

"I got it." Carol's voice filled Maggie's ears as the younger woman turned to see Carol carrying what appeared to be a bowl of oatmeal, a glass of water, and a Tupperware container filled with water. Maggie quickly reached out and took the Tupperware container amazed at how Carol was so determined, having balanced all three objects with ease.

"Sick? What do you mean sick?" Beth followed them towards the door to C Block, Judith writhing in her arms. Beth knew just as well as everyone else that Daryl Dixon didn't get sick. Even after the winter they had Daryl was the only one who didn't end up with at least some type of cold, sneeze, or sniffle. The man seemed immune.

"I don't know. Just stay here."

* * *

Rick looked over just in time to see Carol and Maggie reentering D Block with the supplies Hershel had sent them for. Maggie stopped by Hershel's side with the Tupperware container full of water and a washcloth while Carol knelt down beside Daryl, opposite of the Greene family. Maggie sat down beside Daryl now and dipped the cloth into the container of water, wringing it out before she folded it and placed it on his forehead.

"When he wakes up we'll have to try and get some fluids in him. He'll be worse off if he doesn't get at least something," Hershel broke the silence, giving his input on the situation at hand. He made to get up before Maggie and Glenn both flanked his sides and helped him. Rick retrieved his crutches and offered them to him to keep his balance steady as the three backed off of him.

The door to D Block opened once more causing everyone to glance over at the newcomer. When Rick noticed it was Michonne, he felt a lump reappear in his throat. He immediately thought the worst since she had been on watch, that maybe they were under attack, but she was walking far too casually for there to be a threat. And it took a moment before Rick realized that she was also carrying Daryl's crossbow slung over her shoulder with her katana.

"Thought he might want this. Seems to be his security blanket." A slight smirk tugged at Michonne's lips as she slid the crossbow off her shoulder and handed it over to Rick after he took a few steps to meet her. They both turned back to face the others.

"Yeah, thanks. I meant to go back out and grab it myself but…" Glenn let his voice taper off. Michonne only nodded in understanding as she was staring down at the unconscious hunter.

"Doesn't look too good." Michonne tore her stare away from Daryl, "Tyreese is on watch now. Let me know if you need anything." And with that she headed back out of D Block, a woman of few words. Rick only hoped she was doing okay after losing Andrea because if the condition Daryl was in was tied to Merle's death… Well, Rick wasn't sure if he could handle another one of their group and best players to be down for the count.

Rick ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Things were just becoming one big disaster after another.

* * *

"…no way of knowing."

"We have to do something though…"

"What about if we…"

Daryl opened his eyes upon hearing the faint sound of familiar voices nearby. Once he had them open though he immediately regretted it as everything slightly spun around before him, causing him to shut his eyes once again until the dizziness subsided.

"Daryl?" Rick's voice filled his ears.

Daryl raised his shaky hands, cursing at how weak he must have looked to whoever was crowded around him at the moment. He rubbed his eyes before trying to open them again, his vision coming back into focus as he noticed Rick hovering over him as he lay on his side. He made to prop himself up on his elbow at least but soon felt Rick's hand resting on his shoulder.

"Just stay put, alright? You don't have to worry about anything." Rick forced a smile down at him.

Whether he decided against moving or he just didn't have it in him, Daryl didn't protest. Instead he reached a hand up to his forehead to find a damp washcloth and brought it down in front of him to see. "What the hell?"

"You're running a high fever. Hershel thought it best if we tried to bring it down in any way possible." Carol's voice explained from behind him. It was then that Daryl realized not only was Rick standing by, but Glenn, Maggie, Hershel, and apparently Carol too. _Great_.

"I'm fine. Just leave me be," Daryl grumbled under his breath, setting the washcloth down by his side.

"Since you're awake, you think you can try and get some ibuprofen in your system? Maybe a side of oatmeal and water to go with that?" Maggie offered. She was already reaching into her pocket and shaking a couple pills out of the bottle before Daryl groaned.

"Stop…" Daryl buried his face in his hands and rolled onto his back. Why couldn't they take the hint? He didn't want to be bothered let alone lying in the middle of the cell block on display for everyone to harass.

"I recommend you let us do something before this fever gets any worse, son." Hershel spoke, the crutches clacking across the hard ground as he stepped back, allowing enough room for Daryl's personal space to be invaded.

There was a pair of hands suddenly groping under Daryl's arms and pulling him back, up into somewhat of a sitting position. His back was partially resting against Glenn's chest—or so he presumed by process of elimination, gritting his teeth in frustration. He figured if he would have struggled to get away it would have only made him look that much more pitiful because he knew he didn't have enough fight left in him with whatever this sickness was. So he clamped his eyes shut and talked himself down.


	4. Chapter 4

It grew eerily silent in no time flat. No one moved and no one said a word. Daryl cautiously opened an eye to see what in the world was going on only to find Maggie stooped down beside him now. She smiled at him and stretched her hand out that was holding the two pills. "It'll bring your fever down some, and if you're having any pain."

Carol stooped down on his other side now with a glass of water and a smile. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear they were trying to run him away from the prison, killing him with kindness. That or maybe he was trapped in some strange dream.

Daryl prayed his limbs would cooperate long enough for him to take the pills and hold a measly glass of water. He tested it out by first grabbing the pills from Maggie's palm and popped them in his mouth before eyeing the glass. At least nobody could read minds—he would have done buried himself out of humiliation by now otherwise.

Daryl took the glass from Carol and tipped it back enough to get a few sips before passing it back to her. It was more than enough to get the medication down, not wanting to risk putting a whole lot into his stomach with the way it still felt like it was trying out for the Olympics. As far as he was concerned, his stomach could take home the gold medal in hopes of the pesky organ to just call it a damn day already.

A frown tugged at Carol's lips seeing how little Daryl drank. "Do you want to try and eat? I figured oatmeal was bland enough—"

"Hell no," Daryl shot back at her. He quickly bit his tongue. He wasn't exactly meaning to snap at her but he didn't even want to hear the word 'food', or 'oatmeal'.

"How are you feeling?" Hershel questioned.

"Like shit." Daryl pondered at the idea of getting out of Glenn's grasp and lying back down. Surprisingly enough, when Daryl tried to maneuver his way back down to the mattress, Glenn let up and allowed it. Daryl lay on his back and placed an arm across his eyes to block out everyone's unyielding stares.

Hershel chuckled softly. "I'm glad you're being honest but I was hoping for something a little more specific."

"Head hurts. Stomach…" Daryl mumbled. "Just need sleep." And since Daryl still had his arm resting over his eyes, he didn't see Hershel nod and glance at everyone in turn.

"Alright, we'll let you get some rest. The others will head on back and get some sleep themselves. If you need anything, I won't be far." Hershel readjusted the crutches under his arms and headed for the door out of D Block, the sound of everyone's footsteps following.

Daryl was just relieved to know that they were finally going to leave him alone. That was all he wanted to begin with. So he rolled back onto his right side with his back facing the door in an attempt to try and get comfortable, which was nearly impossible with the way he was feeling—some ridiculous fever, chills, throbbing headache, and his entire body ached overall. He figured this was as good a place as any to just stay put and sleep.

* * *

After everyone stepped out of the cellblock, Rick was dead set on stopping Hershel. He couldn't believe everyone was just so willing to leave Daryl like he was. What if he got worse? But when Hershel stopped on his own accord and stared back at everyone, Rick noticed he must have missed some little cue that the old vet shared because he had a faint smile on his lips.

"I'll stay in here with him a couple cells away in case things get worse. I'd like to have someone almost on watch at all times with him though just to be on the safe side. I know it's not the most ideal situation but for Daryl's sake, I think it needs to happen," Hershel explained.

"So he's worse than he looks?" Carol furrowed her brow. The question plagued everyone's mind by this point.

"Not exactly. I just want to make sure he doesn't get worse."

"I'll stay then," Rick immediately offered, stepping forward.

"No, it's best that you stay with everyone else. If you disappear it'll only send everyone from Woodbury into some kind of fit," Maggie countered. "I'll stay for tonight and then we can work things out later."

Hershel nodded, "She does have a point, Rick. And it may be best that we keep everything quiet for now."

Rick knew Maggie was right, he just didn't want her to be. He felt like this was his fault and the least he could do was stay by Daryl's side. If he hadn't ever mentioned his plan to Merle, Merle wouldn't have taken off to try and fulfill it. Merle would still be alive. Then Daryl would have been in better shape than he was.

"Okay," Rick nodded. "Keep us informed." It was all he could do for the time being though he would be back to check on Daryl in the morning. He took off and headed back for C Block with Glenn and Carol, leaving Maggie and Hershel with Daryl.

Maggie turned to go back into D Block but Hershel placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "I think it may be best that we don't hover. Give him some space but do what you need to do."

Maggie nodded. She already planned on keeping her distance so that she didn't unnerve Daryl anymore than what he already was. It was only obvious that Daryl didn't want anyone around and Maggie would give him that—he just wouldn't know she was there. As long as he got some rest, that was everyone's main concern.

Hershel and Maggie entered back into D Block as quietly as possible, shutting the door behind them. Hershel made his way over to one of the cells to rest for the night and Maggie didn't stop until she was beside Daryl. She glanced back at her father and gave him a small wave to let him know things would be fine before he completely submerged himself into the cell and out of sight.

Maggie bent down beside Daryl and stared at him for a moment before coming to the conclusion that he was asleep, his chest steadily rising and falling with each breath he took. She grabbed the washcloth from off the floor where Daryl had placed it and dipped it back into the Tupperware container before wringing it out and carefully placing it back on his forehead. Daryl didn't stir and she was thankful for that. Like Rick had said, Daryl was hard to wake and it didn't seem like that changed any from earlier that day to now. Whatever Daryl was hit with, it hit him hard.

Carol had taken the oatmeal back with her since Daryl wasn't willing to eat and they couldn't exactly force him to, but she had left the glass of water. Maggie moved both the glass and the container of water back in case Daryl was to somehow smack either of them in his sleep. She figured she'd take a little precaution in case.

Once she was satisfied, Maggie leaned back against the wall and slid down until her bottom reached the floor. She wasn't exactly hovering over him but she wasn't exactly leaving him out of her sight either. It didn't take much to realize that something was really wrong with him when he was typically like the Energizer Bunny of the group, always on the move. It was all finally starting to take a toll on him.

It was probably a couple hours later when Maggie's attention snapped back to Daryl. He had suddenly woken up and started in on a coughing fit. Maggie jumped to her feet and retrieved a small bucket of the sorts that they had been using earlier to clean up the cellblock. She carelessly dumped its contents and rushed back to Daryl's side as he was now sitting up, his face buried in his hands and breathing heavy. Maggie set the bucket down next to Daryl having assumed that he was going to throw up. But as soon as she set it down, Daryl grabbed it and did just as she suspected, causing Maggie to cringe.

Maggie got down on her knees beside him and rubbed his back while he lost the battle with his nausea. It felt like a couple minutes had passed before he started to settle down. He spit one last time before setting the bucket to the side and pulled his shirt up to wipe his mouth. It was when he started to get up and onto his feet that Maggie felt even more concerned.

"Are you okay?" Maggie followed his lead and got up as well, staring at him.

"I gotta take a piss. You gonna watch me do that too?" Daryl grumbled, trailing off toward the door.

Maggie hesitated but bit her tongue. She could at least allow him that privacy. And he seemed okay to walk.

So she let him go.


	5. Chapter 5

A reasonable amount of time passed and there was still no sign of Daryl. Maggie began to chew on her lip. She knew she shouldn't have let him wander off on his own whether he truly had to take a piss or not. What if he passed out somewhere or he went off to try and hide from everyone where he couldn't be found? What if he did get worse and no one was around to help him?

Maggie cursed under her breath and left D Block. She had to go find him. She knew she had probably humiliated him by rubbing his back while he threw up but she was just trying to help. When she rounded the next corner, she felt a wave of relief wash over her. Daryl was sitting against the wall with his back propped up against it and his knees pulled to his chest. He had his head resting on his knees turned away from her.

"Daryl?" Maggie wasn't sure if he was conscious or not but he slowly raised his head and turned to look at her. She forced a smile, "How was the piss?"

Daryl only rolled his eyes and rest his head back down on his knees.

"Look, I know you're trying to run away from me right now but it's not going to work. Just come back to the cellblock and get some rest. I'm just trying to help you," Maggie explained.

Daryl stared down at the floor for a moment before giving her a slight nod. He ignored Maggie's hand as he got back to his feet, clutching his stomach.

"Still nauseated?" Maggie kept a watchful eye on him. He was being far too stubborn for her liking but what could she do? It was Daryl. She just had to work past it.

Daryl provided her with another nod as he rubbed his eye. "Stomach's killin' me…"

Maggie frowned, "Tell me what I can do to help, Daryl."

"Nothin'," Daryl retorted.

Once Daryl started to head back towards the cellblock, Maggie noticed he was walking much slower than before. It was then that she realized maybe he was trying to distance himself from everyone again but maybe where she had found him was as far as he could get. She stayed close to his side and matched his pace in case he started to collapse, trying not to be too insulting with the close proximity and staring.

But Daryl practically came to a complete stop before he started to collapse without warning.

"Daryl—" Maggie did the first thing that came to her mind, and that was to grab him the best she could and keep him from at least smacking his head into something. She was able to use the wall for a bit of leverage as she kept one arm around his waist while she grabbed his left arm and threw it around the back of her neck. When she said she'd help and keep an eye on Daryl, she never would have thought she'd be trying to support his unconscious body.

Maggie grabbed his wrist and found his pulse. It was anything but slow, and with her body now pressed against his to keep him on his feet, she could feel the heat radiating off of him. It was too bad dumping him into a tub of ice was out of the question. A washcloth could only do so much and she could only give him ibuprofen every six hours.

Just when she thought she'd have to somehow drag him back to the cellblock, he was already coming back around. Daryl got his feet back under him and leaned against the wall to get his balance.

"Hey, welcome back." Maggie pulled his arm off of the back of her neck but stayed close. Daryl rubbed his head before glancing over at her. "You passed out."

"Yeah, guess I've been doing that lately…" Daryl mumbled. Maggie was shocked he didn't try to deny it.

"You've got to take it easy, Daryl. No more funny business and trying to run off by yourself. You need to rest and get your fever down." She wasn't sure how he was even standing let alone walking around. He had to be beyond miserable. But apparently his stubbornness was motivating him.

Daryl only nodded.

* * *

Daryl got back to the cellblock with Maggie's assistance, no longer having any willpower to even try and fight her. At this point he wasn't even sure he could have made it back on his own anyway. Maggie was right. Daryl had used pissing as an excuse to try and get away from everyone. He just wanted to be left alone.

Maggie helped ease him back down onto the mattress on the floor. Daryl hadn't realized he was spacing out with his gaze locked on the floor until he saw that Maggie was still right by his side. Had she said something to him or was she just staring? Jesus, he needed to pull himself together…

Instead of asking questions and letting on that he didn't hear what she said—if she said anything at all—Daryl just nodded. He managed to lie back down on his side and braced his arm under his head as though it were a pillow.

He wasn't sure what he did to deserve all of this shit, or how he became this sick, but he was about ready to just break down and cry. He could feel bile rise up in the back of his throat, making him shudder, swallowing it back down. It felt like his mind just kept repeating history over and over like he could see it all before his eyes. Fucking childhood memories were resurfacing. There were flashes of Merle ranging from then up until returning to the prison with him. Then Merle as a walker. Putting him down.

Daryl shut his eyes and buried his face in his hands breathing deeply. He felt as if he were somewhere on the verge of hyperventilating, vomiting, or breaking down into a fucking mess because _this_ was starting to become too much. He needed to get up and moving if only to distract his mind for a couple hours. But since he couldn't do that, he couldn't get away from everyone. And since he couldn't get away from everyone, he couldn't do any of those three things in hopes of relieving anything at this point.

He swore he could almost hear Merle's voice calling out to him, telling him to man up.

His stomach clenched as he gripped his hair and tried to breathe steadily out of his nose. Fuck illnesses. Fuck this barren wasteland of a world. Fuck Woodbury, the Governor, _death_.

Fuck _everything_.

That was the last conscious thought that passed Daryl's mind before everything seemed to fade away.

* * *

Maggie was on her knees next to Daryl watching his every move and repeating his name but she never got a reaction from him. Not unless she considered the slight whimper he made as his way of responding. His shifting around came to a stop shortly after that in which she tried jostling his shoulder to elicit a response, and thus still receiving nothing.

No matter how much she wanted to wake her father she knew there was nothing he'd be able to do. Daryl was most likely trapped somewhere in his feverish mind and sleep had hopefully, finally, hit him. She frowned at what appeared to be Daryl's worsening condition as she grabbed the washcloth, dipped it back into the water, and placed it on his forehead the best she could. All she could do was hope and pray that he would be okay and that he'd come through this.

And Maggie resumed her seated position with her back against the wall as she kept an eye on Daryl all throughout the night until the sun made its reappearance, letting her know that it was a new day. She had kept rewetting the washcloth and placing it back on Daryl's forehead while checking his pulse throughout the night. She knew she should have kept up with the ibuprofen but she had no way of keeping track of time since the batteries in any watches that were left had gone dead months ago. She was also too nervous to try and shove the pills down his throat with him being unconscious, assuming she would just get him to take some whenever he awoke.

Maggie got back on her feet once she heard the clacking of her father's crutches, his figure popping out of the cell and headed over towards her with a weary smile. She briefly filled him in on everything that had happened and mentioned anything that seemed unusual. She was expecting him to start asking questions, to ask her to elaborate but he didn't. Instead he only provided her with a nod and a sorrowful glance over at Daryl's still unconscious form.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Thanks for the support, guys. I appreciate it. :)

* * *

Once things were fairly well settled in C Block, Rick headed over to D Block the first chance he got. He wanted to check to see how things were going with Daryl and he figured Maggie and Hershel could use a little break, get something to eat. Rick just assumed he would go ahead and take over on watch after checking up.

The first thing Rick noticed once he made his way into the other cellblock was that Daryl was still right where he was last time he saw him, unconscious. He met Maggie's stare and caught a weak smile from her as he walked over to her and her father. "Any change?"

"By the sounds of it, I'd say worse if anything. Maggie told me he was sick through the night." Hershel shifted enough so that he could face Rick as he spoke.

"Not _all_ through the night. But he did get sick. He tried to get away and as I was trying to get him back here he passed out…" Maggie's voice trailed off as she hugged her arms around herself. "He's stubborn."

"That's one way to put it," Rick nodded. It wasn't exactly the news he was hoping to hear but maybe Daryl would just have to get a little worse before he started to get better. Things always had a way of working out in the strangest of ways. "I just wanted to come see how he was doing. Figured you two might like to grab some food while I'm here as well."

"Yeah, and maybe some sleep." Maggie stifled a yawn and managed another weak smile in Rick's direction. "He's been out like a rock for quite some time now."

"I'll be back after we get some breakfast. If he wakes up, try to make him drink some water." Hershel explained briefly. Rick nodded again in understanding before the two left the cellblock and headed back for C.

Rick got down on one knee next to Daryl and rewet the washcloth before returning it to his forehead. He was now lying on his back so the wet cloth stayed put a little better than it had when Daryl was lying on his side previously. Rick reached out and touched the backside of his hand to Daryl's cheek and frowned. He was still burning up, maybe even more than before if that was even possible. He couldn't help but wonder if this illness that Daryl had succumbed to would get any better if the fever could at least break.

Upon hearing the door to the cellblock squeak its way open on worn out hinges, Rick glanced up to see Carol walking over. She didn't even bother with a fake smile, worry etched on her face. "He's not doing any better, is he?"

Rick shook his head. "Still really sick. I think his fever feels like it's gotten worse." If Rick hadn't had the chance to speak to Daryl when he did yesterday, he'd almost think Daryl was lying about not being bit.

Carol knelt down on the opposite side of Daryl from Rick and placed the backside of her hand to Daryl's cheek as well. "I don't understand how he got this bad…"

Rick stood back up straight and rubbed his eyes. "He just wore himself down I guess. It finally all caught up with him. Your body is pretty susceptible to just about anything at that point." He glanced back down at Carol and noticed she had her hand on the side of Daryl's face. That's when he realized Daryl looked like he was coming back around.

"Daryl?" Carol tried calling out to him but it seemed like Daryl still wasn't all there. Something wasn't quite right.

Daryl's body started to convulse at that point. Febrile seizure. It wasn't exactly something Rick was familiar with but he knew what it was and he knew it couldn't be good. It meant that Daryl's temperature was a lot higher than what they suspected and they needed to bring it down. Fast.

"Get Hershel—" Carol practically choked out her words as she took the washcloth from Daryl's forehead and worked on undoing some of the top buttons of his shirt.

Rick's feet felt like concrete. He felt like they were somehow going to lose Daryl right then and there. But he pulled himself together and hightailed it out of there in search for Hershel. He wasn't sure what the man could do but he was their best shot at getting Daryl better.

* * *

Luckily, Hershel was already on his way back so Rick didn't have far to go. Hershel immediately noticed the look of panic on Rick's face and started moving as fast as he could with his crutches while Rick kept up beside him.

"What's going on with him?" Hershel asked as the door to D Block came into view.

"Seizure—febrile seizure. Carol's with him. I—we don't know what to do." Rick quickly opened the door and allowed Hershel to go before him. The only thing Rick knew about febrile seizures was that they weren't suppose to last long and that the body's temperature was at least 104 degrees Fahrenheit for them to occur. It was more common for children to have them. Rick recalled all of this from when Carl was first born because Lori looked into everything, always worried that something was going to happen and she wanted to be prepared.

"Get him on his side if you can," Hershel called out to Carol as he approached. Rick ran over to help Carol who was near in tears at this point.

"Is there anything we can do?" Carol wiped under her eye before returning her hand to Daryl's forehead and running her hand through his hair.

"I'm afraid not. Just make sure there's nothing that can block his airway and keep him on his side so that he doesn't choke," Hershel instructed. "We'll have to wait for it to pass. Then we need to start working on getting his temperature down and keep it down."

Rick stayed close by just in case but when he glanced over at Hershel, he felt like every muscle in his body clenched. The look on Hershel's face was so stern and that alone was enough to keep Rick in his panicked state. But thankfully Daryl came out of the seizure shortly after that, and Rick knew he had to act.

"We need to get him out of his clothes and it probably wouldn't hurt to get some more washcloths. Since he's not conscious to take anything, we'll have to work around that and do everything we can. And if it's possible, I'd like to be able to get him into one of the cells and onto a bed so that I can reach him easier." Hershel listed everything he could think of.

Rick looked to Carol. She was still running a hand through Daryl's hair while she wiped her face with her other hand. He wasn't sure if she needed a quick break or not but since she didn't tear her stare from Daryl, Rick guessed she wasn't planning on going anywhere. "I'll go grab Glenn and Tyreese. They can help lift him back into the cell where the mattress came from." Rick rested his hand on Carol's shoulder and gave a firm squeeze before he got back up and left.

* * *

Carol felt torn. She almost didn't catch all of what Rick said but she knew she had to snap out of it. She had to pull herself together for Daryl. He needed help and they were all going to do everything they could for him. She started to finish unbuttoning Daryl's shirt as she glanced up at Hershel. "I'm sorry. I didn't even think about moving the mattress out here. I just figured it would be better for Daryl."

"That's okay. I would have done the same thing if I were in your position. I know he doesn't like these cells but right now it's all I've got. I have one leg and I'm certainly not getting any younger." Hershel smiled.

Carol returned the friendly gesture and nodded. Daryl would pull through this, it would just take time. After living together for however many months it had officially been, she had never seen Daryl come down sick. It was like he couldn't just come down with a simple cold. No, he had to come down with whatever _this_ was and scare her half to death. By the sounds of it, Daryl hadn't even been conscious at all yet today. At least not fully if his eyes flickering open before his seizure counted. She had a feeling he was going to be out for most of the day too.

The sound of footfalls filled the cellblock like music to Carol's ears. It meant that they could finally start working on getting Daryl onto the road of recovery. Rick led the way over with Tyreese and Glenn in tow. Tyreese looked a little taken aback by Daryl's presence, seeing as he hadn't been around Daryl since everything that happened. But nevertheless, he was there to help and he didn't say a word.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** This is actually a chapter and a half in length. You'll see why I did that at the end, haha. Thanks for the support guys, keep it coming! I appreciate it.

* * *

It was Rick's idea to try and move the mattress and Daryl separately. The last thing they needed was to accidently drop Daryl off of the flimsy thing and end up with a concussion on top of everything else. Rick grabbed Daryl from under his arms and pulled him up as Glenn got his feet and they moved him off the mattress. Glenn released Daryl's feet and worked with Tyreese to move the mattress back into the cell while Rick kept Daryl upright. Tyreese wasn't too sure what to do after that so he stood back a ways and let Rick and Glenn get Daryl situated back onto the bed.

"Thank you, I appreciate it." Hershel nodded in gratitude. "Now I just have to ask for one more thing: I need at least a couple more washcloths. And might need some more water."

"And a thin blanket or sheet would be nice," Carol added. She still wasn't about to leave Daryl's side with him in the condition that he was. If nothing else, she would make taking care of Daryl her primary business until he got to feeling better. Beth was more than capable taking care of Judith and besides, Carol didn't want to risk catching whatever Daryl had or being a carrier and passing it on to the infant. She also figured she'd be the one to get Daryl out of his clothes once the guys all left. She could imagine Daryl wouldn't be too thrilled if he woke up to find that Rick or Glenn had stripped him.

Rick and Tyreese headed back for C Block for what Hershel and Carol wanted while Glenn hesitated for a moment. He looked worried, like he wanted to say something, but decided against it as he followed after the other two.

Carol wrestled Daryl's sweat soaked shirt off of him for the time being and tossed it aside followed by his undershirt. She unfastened his belt and jeans before she worked on pulling them off as well and added them to the pile, leaving him in just his underwear. She could tell his fever was high but she didn't think it would turn into anything like this.

Carol took a step back, ignoring the scar marks that littered Daryl's body, and stared at his chest. She could see the visible rise and fall with every breath he took. "Should we try and give him anything?"

"It's hard to say. I'm beginning to think we'll have to try. He may be too far out of it now to really wake up and we need to get his fever down before it has a chance to become worse," Hershel offered.

Carol folded her arms across her chest and nodded. She didn't want to think about his fever somehow becoming even worse than what it already was. If she could place a guess, it was already somewhere around 104 degrees Fahrenheit. Daryl was facing brain damage and even death if it got any higher.

* * *

Glenn hung his head as he shuffled his feet back towards D Block with Rick. He carried a thin blanket and a few more extra washcloths while Rick carried another container full of water. Rick had dismissed Tyreese, told the man they had everything under control for now. But Glenn could see it in Rick's face just as much as he knew it was on his own. It wasn't under control. There just wasn't anything they could really do.

The last time that Glenn had really even spoken to Daryl was… well, it was when Merle was still alive. And Daryl had practically begged him to forgive Merle, that Merle was sorry.

And all Glenn did was shrug him off. Told him he wasn't going to, basically. And now look how everything was.

He felt terrible. He didn't know how to approach Daryl after that. So he felt like he at least owed Daryl this. That he could help with any little thing possible to get him feeling better. He wanted to help.

When they returned to the cellblock and met back up with Carol and Hershel, they handed over their things. Carol placed the blanket at the foot of the bed for the moment before they voiced that they wanted to try and get some medication into Daryl to help lower his fever as well. Maggie had left the ibuprofen in the cell as Carol grabbed the bottle and looked to Rick and Glenn.

"I got it." Glenn stepped forward before Rick could say a word. He managed to get a grip under Daryl's arms again and ended up sliding behind him to keep him up and in a sitting position, holding him there. He could immediately feel the heat coming off of Daryl from his fever.

Carol shook a couple pills out of the bottle before passing it off to Hershel and stepping closer. Her brow was furrowed in determination as she lifted Daryl's head up and got the pills into his mouth. Rick passed her the glass of water that they still had in there as she took it and turned back to Daryl. Everyone was well aware that this was the tricky part.

Glenn kept his right arm around Daryl's chest to keep him upright as he gently placed his left hand under the unconscious man's chin. He met eyes with Carol and she seemed to gather what he aimed to do. Glenn tilted Daryl's head back and Carol slowly poured water into his mouth in hopes of washing the pills down. Once he felt Daryl swallow, he looked back to Carol and nodded. They received a slight groan from Daryl as he scrunched his face.

"Is he waking up?" Glenn asked, unable to see Daryl from straight on.

Carol shook her head. "He's still out."

Glenn slightly nodded with a frown. He tried to push Daryl forward so he could get off the bed and let him lay back down but Rick got Daryl by the shoulders and held his weight so that Glenn could maneuver out. Rick eased Daryl back down and turned to face the others, his hands on his hips.

"What do we do?"

"We can try to cool him down further by using the washcloths but other than that, only time will tell," Hershel replied.

* * *

So Rick hadn't quite gotten around to taking watch for a bit like he had planned in hopes to relieve the others of guard duty. He felt bad, like he wasn't doing anything to help. He didn't want to come off like "the Governor" and make it seem like he just strolled around the prison doing nothing. His concern for Daryl had completely consumed him though.

He stepped outside for a breath of fresh air and squinted out into the field. They were still looking to be in fairly good shape. There were no breaches in the fence and all of the walkers that were once on the inside had already been taken care of.

Rick almost collided into Carl as his son come whipping around the corner. He heard Carl mutter something under his breath and made to keep walking, his eyes fixed on the ground with that old Sheriff's hat still resting atop his head. He quickly placed a hand on his son's shoulder to stop him.

"Is everything alright?" Rick stared down at him as Carl still refused to meet his eyes. He didn't bother asking him what he was doing outside in the first place. He understood Carl needed his own space as well but the thought of him alone outside was a little unsettling, fear that the Governor could swoop in at any moment. But he had to put that fear to rest for the time being.

"No," Carl ground out. "We shouldn't be doing all of this."

"I'm sorry?" Rick cocked his head and furrowed his brow.

"We shouldn't have to be on guard all the time and waiting for the Governor to attack. We should be the ones going out there after him. You heard what Karen said—he killed his army. He doesn't have shit." Carl looked up at Rick, his voice growing cold, "You should have killed him back when you had a chance. Put a bullet in his head."

Rick had already received a similar speech from Carl but he was still taken aback. "I did what I thought best—"

"Well, you thought wrong." Carl cut him off. "If you would have gone through with it we'd still have Axel. Merle and Andrea would be alive. And maybe Daryl wouldn't be in the shape he's in either. Someone should have kept a closer eye on him after losing Merle like that."

"Daryl's sick and we're doing everything we can." Rick tried to remain levelheaded about this but Carl's words made his blood run cold. "I'm doing the best I can with what was handed to me. If you want to point fingers then maybe you should start helping in calling out the shots. If you saw the shape Daryl was in before he got this bad, you could have done something yourself."

* * *

Glenn stayed with Daryl so that Hershel and Carol could take a break. They took some precautionary measures and decided to handcuff Daryl's right wrist to the bed much like they had done for Hershel when they weren't sure he was going to make it. Glenn tried to joke about it and explained to them that maybe it would keep Daryl in bed so he could rest. But sitting there beside him and taking it all in only deepened his depression about the whole thing.

"I'm sorry… about Merle. And the handcuffs. Just get through this, Daryl. We need you. _I_ need you." Glenn lowered his head and sighed. He managed a weak smile, "Who's gonna be my best man when me and Maggie get married otherwise?"

His smile faded when he looked back up at Daryl. He still hadn't moved and he really hadn't been awake since sometime in the middle of the night according to Maggie. Carol had placed a fresh washcloth on his forehead before leaving after having sponged him down a bit seeing as it would just feel awkward for him to do it for Daryl or any of the other guys. But hell, he would if he had to. No questions asked. Then again he supposed it was a bit awkward to be sitting there facing Daryl's unconscious form with him stripped down to just his underwear, talking to him.

Oh well…

Glenn got back on his feet just as he heard someone's footsteps walking deeper into the cellblock and approaching Daryl's cell. He disregarded whoever it was while he grabbed another washcloth, dipped it in the water enough to saturate it, and slid it behind Daryl's neck after wringing it out a bit. He remembered his mom always doing that for him when he was sick and it always made him feel better.

When Glenn turned around he saw it was Carl that had come into the cellblock, leaning against the bars of the doorway. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest and his eyes locked on Daryl.

"Everything okay?" Glenn hadn't pictured Carl being the one to show up. Not that Carl didn't care about Daryl, he just figured Carl would hang back. He'd been acting a little different though lately.

Carl snapped his attention from Daryl to Glenn. "Yeah… Just thought I would come see how he's doing. Haven't seen him around the prison in a while. It feels weird."

"It definitely feels weird," Glenn agreed.

"You need a break or anything? Sounds like you guys have been in here watching him most of the time," Carl offered.

"Actually, yeah. If you don't mind."

* * *

Carl waited until he heard Glenn leave. He walked to the next cell over, glancing over at the door on the way. He grabbed the pillow from off the bed and headed back into Daryl's cell before stopping by his side.

Daryl had gotten progressively worse over the short period of time. He'd apparently been unconscious more often than not by Carl's understanding. And they had handcuffed him, meaning they were already expecting the worst.

If everyone wasn't so worried about Daryl they'd be able to focus more on the real threat at hand: the Governor. They'd be able to straighten things out.

Daryl was pretty much dead already.

His dad didn't know what he was doing. He'd had the perfect opportunity more than once to kill the Governor at point blank range. But did he do it? Of course not. He allowed the Governor to live and ended up killing Axel, Merle, and Andrea. Even Oscar. The Governor had threatened Glenn and Maggie. Yet everyone seemed to be okay with everything that was going on.

And Daryl. He only seemed to be getting worse.

With his hand being cuffed, it meant the others were already thinking it was a possibility that he could die in his sleep and turn. Carl could put Daryl out of his misery and the others would start getting their act together and do something.

With Daryl's hand being cuffed, Carl could help move that process along. He could smother him with the pillow and no one would even suspect a thing. They would think his fever was what ultimately killed him. And if Daryl was to wake up, he couldn't really fight back with only one hand. He was too weak.

It was perfect...


	8. Chapter 8

Carl gripped the pillow tighter in his hands as he watched it play out in his mind. He could do it and it would be done. Everyone would move on from this. That was all there was to it. If they wanted to survive, they had to get past this.

"Carl?" Carol's voice broke him from his thoughts as he eased his grip on the pillow and turned to face the woman. Her brow was furrowed as she stole a glance at the pillow and back to Carl.

"Just got an extra pillow. Thought he might want it." Carl mumbled his words as he set the pillow down next to Daryl.

Carol smiled weakly. "I'm sure he'd appreciate the thought."

Carl turned on his heels and left the cell, shaking his head. He didn't even hear Carol come into the cellblock much less the cell. Was he seriously thinking about killing Daryl? Furthermore, would he have gone through with his plan had Carol not shown up? Daryl had never done anything wrong towards him. If anything, he was the one guy who would take his side when everyone else was against him. Daryl wanted the Governor dead just as much as him.

Something needed to be done though.

Carl literally bumped into Maggie on the way out of the cellblock as their shoulders collided in passing.

"Carl—what's going on?" Maggie stopped to face him but Carl kept going.

"I'm going to take watch." Carl shot back at her.

Maggie shrugged to herself before she walked towards Daryl's cell to find Carol. She found the older woman tossing an extra pillow onto the top bunk before she stepped into the small area.

"Any idea what that was all about?" Maggie clarified, "Carl. I'm guessing he must have been in here. He seemed like he was upset or something."

"Did he leave?" Carol looked back to her.

"Yeah, he said he was going to take watch. Is something wrong?" Maggie tried to examine the look on Carol's face but she couldn't quite read it. She glanced down at Daryl but she didn't see anything noticeably different about him.

"I think he was planning something. He was in here alone and he was holding that pillow." Carol gestured to the pillow she had just moved.

Maggie's face fell. "You don't think he'd try and kill Daryl…?"

"I'm thinking he was about to try. He seemed startled by my presence." Carol folded her arms.

"We have to tell Rick or someone." Maggie was already backing up to retreat to C Block but Carol grabbed her arm to stop her.

"We can't tell Rick. He has enough on his plate as it is. We'll just have to keep an eye out and make sure Carl doesn't try anything," Carol explained.

"Rick needs to talk to him and get him under control then. This is Daryl's _life_ we're talking about. And if you really think Carl was even _thinking_ about it…" Maggie let her words fall flat as she heard someone else enter into the cellblock. She and Carol dropped the conversation like that, a bit of a tension settling between the two as Carol turned her attention to Daryl and started to sponge him down again with a washcloth. Maggie unconsciously folded her arms in front of her chest and tried to ease up on the glare that was settling across her face.

Glenn's head popped around the corner and as he met eyes with Maggie he smiled. Some of the tension slowly ebbed away once Maggie realized how childish Glenn seemed before completely showing himself and walking into the doorway.

"Man… If Daryl only knew how much we all keep popping in here like this…" Glenn smiled. "Carl didn't stay too long?"

The mentioning of Carl's name had Carol and Maggie meeting eyes again as the short internal war lived on. But Maggie broke:

"Carol said she found him in here alone holding a pillow and staring at Daryl. Like he was in a trance. He didn't notice when she came in."

"Wait, what?" Glenn shook his head. "You guys think Carl was going to kill Daryl?"

"I wouldn't put it past him with the way he's been acting lately," Maggie retorted.

"This has to stay between us. No telling Rick," Carol reminded them. "That man has enough problems as it is."

Glenn looked to Daryl then to Maggie as if waiting for a confirmation. Maggie could only shrug.

* * *

"Rick," Karen reached out an arm and gently pulled him back to face her. "Is something going on? You keep disappearing on us and it has some of us concerned."

Rick turned around to completely face the woman head on as he rested his hands on his hips. "Nothing to worry about. You just pass that along."

"Is it Philip? Is he back? Has someone run into him?" Karen pried.

"Karen…" Rick glanced down at the ground and sighed, grabbing Karen by her arms and looking her straight in the eyes. "There's nothing to worry about. Nothing that concerns anyone here, okay? Everything's fine."

He backed off once she gave him a small nod. He still figured it best to not let on about Daryl's current state. If people were worried about the older folks dying in their sleep, they didn't need to worry about a fever killing someone in the group and coming back. Even though everything was under control people would find a way to take it way out of proportion. He just needed everyone to keep a level head. And that included himself.

Rick left the cellblock that contained the Woodbury civilians and figured he'd go check up on Daryl's situation, see if he maybe woke up at the very least. But he stopped when he saw Sasha heading back towards C Block.

"Weren't you on watch?" Rick held out his arm to stop her from walking past him. Maybe he was wrong but he'd been trying to keep up with everything as best as he could.

"Yeah, Carl came up and said he'd take over. Figured I wouldn't argue." Sasha studied his face. "Is everything okay?"

Rick rubbed the back of his neck. He was already getting the sense that something wasn't okay. Something must be going on with Carl again. "Everything's fine. Thanks."

He figured he'd wait to speak to Carl after checking in on Daryl. He quickened his pace the more his mind started to carry onward but he was only met with confusion when he came face to face with almost everyone lingering around Daryl's cell: Hershel, Carol, Maggie, and Glenn.

"What's going on? Is he okay?" Rick stared back at everyone before stealing a peek into the cell to find Daryl still unconscious, exactly how he had seen him last.

The looks that passed between the small group didn't go unnoticed by Rick. He could pick up on the stress. Without anyone even saying a word, his heart started racing.

"Nobody wants to be the one to say it so I'll say it…" Hershel adjusted the crutches under his arms after stealing a glance from his daughter and Carol. "We think there's a problem with Carl."

"Problem? What kind of problem?" Rick tilted his head as he waited for the explanation.

"You need to talk to him." Glenn spoke up. "He was gonna try and smother Daryl."

Rick's expression hardened as he took in Glenn's words. "This true?" Carol and Maggie vaguely nodded while Hershel and Glenn lowered their gaze to the floor. It wasn't exactly what he was expecting to hear and about Carl nonetheless. He turned on his heels, each stride he took wider than the previous before he reached the door out of the cellblock. He had just made it out the door when he heard Carol calling his name.

"Rick, I'm sorry. I didn't want this to be brought up to you. I know you're going through a lot right now… But Carl," Carol paused as she tried to find the words. "That boy needs guidance. And if he doesn't get set straight I'm afraid we'll have more on our hands to deal with than just the Governor returning."

"I'll set him straight." Rick remained stern but Carol slightly frowned.

"You can't just yell at him. It'll go right over his head."

"You have any suggestions?" Rick placed his hands back on his hips.

"Maybe have someone else—"

Rick cut her off, "I'll handle it myself." He brushed past the woman and headed for the door that led outside. He was well aware that he'd need to try and cool off some before approaching his son. He couldn't help but feel an uncontrollable rage wash over him. His own _son_ was plotting to kill Daryl? And for what?

He kicked the door open to vent some of his frustration as it slammed shut behind him once he stepped foot outside. He cursed Shane and all the actions that man had performed in front of his boy. He cursed knowing that Carl had been the one to shoot his own mother. But worst of all, he cursed himself for not pulling his act together sooner to prevent Carl from traveling down a road he wasn't sure he'd be able to pull him back from.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** I know…very short chapter. But it's been a while since I've updated and I really wasn't too sure on how I wanted to tackle this next part. Bear with me.

* * *

Carl heard one of the doors to the prison slam shut, alerting his attention down to it. He immediately spotted his dad and it looked like he was heading his way. There was no way Carl could make a run for it. By the time he'd reach the bottom of the stairs, he'd end up face to face with his father. He looked back out to the tree line and decided to ignore him for the time being all while working some thoughts through his head.

A couple minutes later and the door opened behind him. Carl turned ever so slightly to look back at him, to give him that little bit of acknowledgement, and turned back to the trees. His dad was pissed.

Carl could hear Rick shuffling around behind him, pacing. Then a heavy sigh. He wasn't speaking and the silence was starting to eat away at Carl more than any amount of arguing would. So he turned to face his dad while leaning against the railing, his arms folded in front of his chest. "What?"

Rick opened his mouth but shut it soon after like a fish out of water. He tried again before words came out. "What exactly happened in there with Daryl?"

"Nothing. I went to see how he was doing."

"I have a few others who are saying otherwise." Rick placed his hands on his hips, his right hand resting just above the holstered Python making the gun very visible to Carl. "You want to explain that?"

Carl shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about." Carl worked through his ideas and decided it best to play it off like he never even thought about killing Daryl. It was the only way to save his skin. If anyone knew, they'd have him locked up like some kind of prisoner.

Rick turned his head away and inhaled sharply as if to bite back any words that threatened to escape. Carl could tell he was struggling to keep his composure and he wasn't sure whether he really wanted to push him or not. His dad was already on the edge of sanity and he needed to back down from his so-called leadership before he got someone else killed.

"Were you or were you not going to try and smother Daryl?"

"Why would I kill Daryl?" Carl narrowed his eyes, half tilting his head to the side.

Rick took a couple steps forward to close the gap between them and thrust a finger into Carl's chest. "Don't stand there and play coy with me. Carol and Maggie would not make these accusations up on a whim."

Carl remained silent as he glared back at his father. He pushed his hand away and huffed.

"What did Daryl do to deserve this? What did _I_ do?" Rick stepped back and ran a hand through his unruly hair.

"You just believe them? You really think I'd do it?" Carl challenged.

Rick stared back at him with a hardened expression. He seemed to be studying him, almost like he was trying to read Carl's mind. And he was silent for a couple minutes before he finally replied: "I want to believe it. I want to believe you wouldn't do something like that…But they wouldn't lie about this."

"That's bullshit!" Carl exclaimed. He jabbed a finger towards the prison, "You'll believe them over your own son? Why would I kill Daryl? He's one of the only chances we have at surviving. Did you ever think that maybe everyone's just been filling your head with a bunch of shit?"

"What do you want from me!" Rick raised his voice. "I screwed up! But I'm not about to let you just turn like that. Have you forgotten who we are? What side you're fighting for?"

"I haven't forgotten a damn thing," Carl retorted.

Rick was fuming, his hands back on his hips and pacing again. "What do you want? I'm sorry. That it?"

"Did you come up here to yell at me or did you come up here to try and make yourself feel better?"

"…I don't think you need to be on watch," Rick muttered under his breath.

"I'm not going back down there. I know what you want to do." Carl eyed him. He could tell Rick was slipping more and more by the minute. "I'm not after anyone in the prison. I'm not after Daryl."

Rick vaguely nodded. He took a step forward and reached out for Carl but froze shortly after.

Carl had pulled the Browning BDA from the holster on his leg and had it pointed at his father's chest. The very gun he had stolen from Daryl all those months ago. The gun he had put Shane down with.

The gun he shot his own mother with.

* * *

_And did I mention I love cliffhangers? I didn't? Oops… _


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** I decided to combine all of this instead of breaking it up. Mostly for the fact that I feel bad I haven't been keeping this updated as regularly. And the last update was short... Enjoy! :)

* * *

"He's going to talk to him…" Carol filled everyone in once she stepped foot back inside D Block. Glenn, Hershel, and Maggie were all still stood outside Daryl's cell and it was apparent there was no change in the short time that Carol had been gone to go after Rick.

"It's for the best. None of us will be able to get any real sleep around here if we're worried about one of our own turning against us." Maggie crossed her arms just as Glenn placed a hand on the small of her back. It was meant as a comforting gesture, that everything would settle and that they'd have nothing to worry about.

"Rick knows what he's doing. If anyone can get through to Carl, it'll have to be him," Hershel assured. "For now let's just resume back to normal and wait for Rick to let us know where to go from here."

The three nodded in agreement. Carol and Maggie decided to head over to C Block to check in and see how things were going. Carol would check on Judith and Beth while they both would fill their people in on the news thus far—excluding the bit about Carl for the time being, seeing as they didn't need anyone to panic.

Glenn took a step back and leaned against the wall just outside Daryl's cell, looking in on him. He could see that Daryl was slightly fidgeting and mumbling incoherent words in his sleep. "He's dreaming about something."

"Nightmare, most likely." Hershel frowned as Daryl's eyes clenched shut even tighter.

"Well, should we wake him? Who knows what could be going on in his head right now."

"Probably best we just let him rest. Lord knows he needs it."

* * *

Rick slowly took a step back and put his hands in the air. "Carl. Put the gun down." He kept his voice as authoritative as possible, leaning on the verge of assertive. He never imagined his son pulling a gun on him and he was only thankful he didn't hear Carol out and stick with her idea of sending someone else.

"Why should I?" Carl's hand shook that held his pistol. Rick wouldn't doubt for a minute that Carl had it in him to pull the trigger if he really wanted to—but he also knew Carl didn't want to. He could see it clear as day in his posture. His son wasn't a cold blooded killer and if it was up to Rick, he'd do anything to keep that from happening.

"Maybe we both need to take a break. I know you said you wanted me to stop being the leader, I get that. And sometimes I agree with that. Maybe just for a while…until things clear up a bit… Maybe I'll ask Glenn or Tyreese what they think is best. Hershel too."

Carl slightly lowered his gun but if he managed to pull the trigger it would still prove to be a fatal shot. "What about me? What about Daryl? The Governor?"

"If you think it's best, I'll let you stay on watch. Otherwise I think you should head down to C Block for a bit. Daryl's still on the mend and we'll keep a close eye on him." Rick paused as he mulled over what he could tell Carl about the Governor. Nothing he could mutter up would satisfy Carl at this point though—he just wanted the man dead. And Rick didn't blame him. "As for the Governor, we just continue like we are. _We have to sort things out_."

Carl huffed, giving his father a once over before nodding and sliding the Browning BDA back into its holster. "Fine, but I'm staying up here. You can send up whoever you want after my watch is done."

"Thank you." Rick bowed his head in a nod and lowered his arms back down at his sides. He wasn't sure if Carl was telling the truth about Daryl or not, about his so-called plans. He knew Carol and Maggie would never have a reason to lie about that sort of circumstance though and the thought of Carl smothering Daryl on his own freewill had Rick more than concerned. But what was he supposed to do? He was treading on thin ice. If he pushed too much, he feared Carl would only push right back. He'd just have to give him some space until they both cooled down. They could talk then.

And as Rick placed his hand on the door knob to leave the watch tower, he turned his head to look back at his son. "…I don't want you to make the same mistakes that I've made."

"I won't."

* * *

The only thing Daryl knew was that the prison was falling. The walls around him were crumbling and the nearby explosions sent a rattle through his chest. The Governor was winning the war and there was nothing he could do but run. The sheath that hung from his belt was knifeless and his crossbow was God knows where. He rounded another corner in the dark corridors of the prison only to come face to face with a pack of hungry walkers lurching his way.

Daryl backtracked only to feel like he was somehow dropped into the middle of a goddamn maze. It was as if the halls were changing before his eyes, like every turn he made only brought him round in a full circle. There was another explosion that rang through the air and he had finally found a light source at the end of the hall. He raced toward it as fast as his feet could carry him in hopes of making it out of there.

But what he was met with was anything but glorifying. The very sight almost had him retching on the floor, falling back as he tripped over his own feet and barely managed to keep himself propped up on his hands. It was Rick and Carl and Judith—and they were all dead. Carl had turned, his entire left arm missing as he chewed away at Rick's shoulder. And Judith writhed around on the floor, her dead prying infant hands reaching for her brother.

Daryl shot his hand up to cover his mouth as he just barely managed to get back on his feet. He abruptly turned to run back into the tombs of hell and stopped when he ran straight into another familiar figure. He could already hear the low guttural growl deep within his brother's throat, daring him not to meet his eyes. The blood on his shirt only meant that he had been shot in the chest. The one fatal gunshot wound that the Governor provided, leaving Merle as a walker.

"No, no, no…" Daryl felt paralyzed. His eyes ended up meeting Merle's dead ones without even a thought and he pushed him away, tears in his eyes, as Merle tried to clumsily grab him.

With no other choice, Daryl bolted past the Grimes family and away from Merle. And before he knew it he had found his way outside. The sky was an overcast of grays as a storm rumbled off in the distance. He heard screams, he heard gunfire, more explosions. There was a fire that covered a good portion of the prison where everyone had resided in C Block and Daryl knew that he'd be lucky if anyone survived.

So he pushed on. Survival had become innate, even though he had nothing left to fight for. A shower of bullets nipped at his heels in that moment as he ran toward the hole in the fence and covered his head like it made a damn difference. He felt a sharp pain as a single bullet tore through his right calf and he fell flat on his face, stretching his palms out just in time to vaguely catch himself which only sent a new sharp pain through both of his wrists.

The raining bullets seized as though whoever had been firing wanted him to get up and keep running—to live. And as much as he wanted to just lay there and wait for a walker to grab him, wait for the bullets to pick back up, he knew he couldn't. There was something in him that was too damn stubborn to throw in the towel and give up.

Daryl worked his way back to his feet, hissing in pain once he applied weight to his right leg. He pushed on though and he made it through the clearing in the fence. He limped his way through the trees and deep into the woods. All of the walkers barely seemed to notice him as they all rushed for the prison, the sights and sounds overwhelming to the dead.

He shook the image of Merle, Rick, and the kids from his mind and wiped an arm under his nose. His vision blurred with tears and he fell to his knees, too exhausted to care, too exhausted to keep going. His lungs burned due to insufficient air and he realized he should have taken a break sooner. He might as well have.

Daryl looked down at the ground in front of him and noticed he was practically sitting next to a small creek. He leaned forward and placed his hands into the cool water, providing some relief to the pain in his wrists and palms. But when he looked down into the water, he saw the reflection of the Governor standing over his shoulder.

Daryl gasped at the revelation and jerked back to try and get on his feet. Only he felt a harsh grip on the back of his neck thrust him forward, plunging his head underwater. He tried to pry himself free from the Governor's grip, tried to kick out and throw him off but to no avail. He was going to drown. After all of the running and the so-called fight for survival, this was how it ended for him.

If he had a preference, he would have rather met his final days with a bullet. He'd even take getting eaten alive by a herd of walkers over drowning. It all seemed a lot faster in the end…

Daryl's eyes shot open as he choked and tried to sit up. He was wrenched back by his right wrist, the force causing him to see what he was caught on while he kept tugging. It took him a minute to realize that he was handcuffed, the metal clanging against metal reverberating in his ears. His eyes searched the small room suddenly aware that he was in one of the cells sprawled out on a bed. A distant clacking and he was met with Hershel's stare.

"Rick—" Daryl choked out his name, unable to comprehend whatever Hershel was saying. He wanted Rick. He needed to know that he was okay, that he was still alive. It had been a while since he'd had that vivid of a dream and he figured he had his fever to blame.

Hershel's hand was pressed against his shoulder. "Glenn's gone to get him. You have to try and calm down though."

Daryl shut his eyes and tried to regain his breath. A wave of nausea rolled through him as he draped his left arm across his eyes. He pulled at his right wrist again only to receive more clanging from the cuffs hitting the metal. He felt sick and he needed to sit up. His back hurt and he had no way of moving to try and fix that.

"They'll be here as soon as they can." Hershel's hand left his shoulder. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

"…M'gonna be sick," Daryl muttered from under his arm. "Back hurts real bad."

"Can you show me where?"

Daryl slowly moved his arm from his face and carefully placed his hand just below his ribs.

"Just the one side or both?"

"Both," Daryl half whimpered and cursed under his breath. He immediately buried his face under his arm again, wishing he could just curl up and go back to sleep so long as no more dreams haunted him.

Footfalls echoed from out in the cellblock and Daryl barely registered Glenn and Rick's voices floating through his cell. There was more rattling of metal on metal before the cuff was removed from Daryl's wrist. It was in that moment that Daryl felt something trying to rise up from the back of his throat. He swallowed it back down but that only caused him to choke as he clumsily threw himself forward, his balance thrown out of whack before he ended up smacking into the wall. He groaned, his eyes still shut tight. Everything felt like it was moving and he didn't have the strength to sit up right, still leaning against the wall.

Daryl felt someone set something down in front of him, causing him to crack his eyes open to see what it was. And of all things, he was thankful to see that bucket. He gripped a hold of it and pulled it closer to him, unable to really move himself from the wall. His stomach felt like it was in knots. He wasn't even sure when the last time was that he actually ate something. A few dry heaves racked his frame until he felt acid burning the back of his throat and caused him to shudder. The pain in his back intensified with every uncontrollable jerk of his body.

Daryl hugged the bucket to himself with his right arm while he draped his left arm over the top of it, providing his head some place to rest. He felt like he was only half conscious. His eyes felt heavy and he wasn't sure who was there in the room with him at that point or if they were saying anything. The only thing he knew for sure was that he felt like complete and utter shit.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Don't ever have four works in progress. You will hate yourself.

* * *

Rick was still flustered over everything with Carl but as soon as Glenn came running toward him, he knew something was wrong. And as soon as he was by Daryl's side and freeing his wrist from the handcuffs he apologized. He should have left the keys in the cell or even with Hershel. But by the look of Daryl's condition, he wasn't even sure if he heard his apology. Then he shot forward, completely off balance and Glenn had gotten the bucket to him just in time it seemed. Rick felt like he cringed with every heave that erupted from Daryl.

"We may have a problem." Hershel slightly shifted beside Rick turning to look at the man.

Rick studied Hershel's face and knew whatever he was about to say wasn't good. He couldn't bring himself to say anything though. He just didn't want anything more to be wrong with Daryl and judging by the way Hershel was looking at him, it had _everything_ to do with Daryl.

"With everything that's been going on lately, I think it's started to affect his kidneys."

Rick shook his head. "Affect his kidneys how? You mean…you mean like kidney failure?"

"Hard to tell but I'm afraid so. He asked for you as soon as he woke up and the only other thing I got out of him was that he felt sick and his back hurt. Dehydration could be causing the pain. We don't know just how long he's really been sick since he's tried to hide it from us," Hershel explained.

Rick glanced back over at Daryl once he realized the man had fallen silent. His shoulders were sharply rising and falling with each short, quick breath, his entire upper body being solely supported by the wall and the bucket he was resting his arm and head on. Rick almost thought he had passed out again after having just woken up but he started to move around shortly after.

Daryl placed his right hand down onto the bed next to him and slowly moved off of the wall. He wiped his left arm across his mouth and nose before looking over toward the three, bleary eyed. "What's the prognosis?"

Hershel slowly reached out to place the backside of his hand against Daryl's forehead. "Your fever feels like it's gone down some, which is certainly good news."

"And what's the bad news?" Daryl didn't beat around the bush. Even in his sick state he managed to cut the crap and jump right to it.

"How's your back feeling?" Hershel inquired, tossing Daryl's question to the side momentarily.

"Same. Hurts…" Daryl rubbed at his eyes while still managing to stay balanced sitting up.

"I just got done telling Rick I'm concerned you may have a problem with your kidneys shutting down. Dehydration could cause that to occur, and your back pain and where it's located all add up."

Daryl stared down at the ground. "So…I just needa drink more."

"I'm afraid it's not quite that simple. If you're still nauseated, there's no way you'll be able to drink anything. Much less drink enough to reverse what's already been done."

"Then what can we do?" Rick turned his attention from Daryl to Hershel, Glenn still standing by his side.

"It would be best if we could run an IV to replace the fluids that have been lost. Saline solution."

"Nope, no way…" Daryl shook his head. "That's somethin' we don't got here and there's no way anyone's makin' a suicide run to try and find some."

"I'll go. It's not a problem. And you need it, Daryl." Glenn asserted.

"He's right. If we don't do something soon, there's no telling what could happen. If your kidneys fail then you're ultimately facing death," Hershel explained.

"I already feel like I'm knockin' on Death's door anyway…" Daryl muttered, burying his face in his hands.

"We'll get something under way. You mind staying with him?" Rick looked to Hershel as the older man nodded in response. "Glenn, you come with me."

Rick didn't give Glenn a chance to even rebel if he wanted to. He immediately left the cellblock and headed back for C. He wanted to talk to everyone and get things sorted out about who was to be in charge after his talk with Carl but it seemed like that would have to be put on hold. Or maybe not.

Rick entered into C Block with Glenn in tow. Tyreese and Sasha were close by but it was Maggie and Carol who were the first to approach the men once they returned.

"Something wrong?" Carol questioned.

"We need to talk some things over."

"What do you mean? What happened?" Maggie folded her arms.

"Hershel thinks Daryl's gonna need an IV to keep him hydrated. His condition is affecting his kidneys," Glenn spoke up for Rick. "We need to make a run."

Tyreese and his sister must have overheard the conversation at that point because they joined in.

"Woodbury might have had something like that. They were pretty well stocked by what we saw when we were there. Could probably find what you're looking for," Sasha suggested.

Rick looked to Carol. "Get Karen. We need to move this conversation away from everyone in the meantime." As Carol retreated further into the cellblock, Rick led everyone out into the hall just outside the door. As long as they were out of immediate sight, they were out of mind—and that was good enough for Rick.

"So we round up a few of us and make the trip back to Woodbury. Are we sure that's the best idea?" Glenn crossed his arms now. "That's the one place where the Governor could be hiding for all we know."

"Highly unlikely." The group glanced over to see Michonne had joined them now. "If he's as smart as he tries to make himself look, he wouldn't be in the most obvious place. Woodbury's deserted."

"She has a point. It would be too easy." Tyreese agreed.

Maggie shook her head. "Even so, leaving the prison is a risk. He could be anywhere out there just waiting."

"He would have done something by now to make himself known if he was," Michonne stated.

Carol returned with Karen, the dark haired woman seeming to be apprehensive as they approached the group. "Carol said you needed me?" She looked to Rick.

"We need to know if there's anything you can share with us about Woodbury. Anything you may have had stocked there. Medical supplies, things of that nature," Rick filled her in.

"Doctor Stevens had quite a bit of supplies." Karen took in everyone standing around in the circle. "Can I ask why?"

"We need the equipment to be able to run an IV of saline solution. One of our group is sick and if he doesn't get that he might not make it." Rick placed his hands on his hips and averted his gaze to the floor.

"…How long has this been going on? You have a sick person?" Karen asked in disbelief.

"That's not important and it's not like he was bit." Maggie narrowed her eyes.

"If we make this trip, which it sounds like we are—we need your help. None of us know the layout as well as you do. If you come with us then we'll be able to get in and get out much faster without drawing too much attention to ourselves," Rick explained.

"You're talking as if you're going yourself." Karen raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were the leader here?"

"I was meaning to talk it over but this came up first. I'm going to Woodbury and anyone else who wants to come is free to. I know you mentioned going," Rick turned to Glenn.

"I am," Glenn nodded.

"And you can count me in. That makes four of us, which is more than enough," Michonne added.

"Alright… That means I'm making you in charge while we're gone, Tyreese. If you have any concerns you can bring them up to Hershel or Carol. They'll be glad to help if need be." Rick sighed, "I need to talk to Carl before we head out. I'll meet you three down by the cars in five."

Rick left the group and headed outside without another word toward the guard tower where he had left Carl. He needed to fill him in on the trip to Woodbury. He was already assuming it wasn't going to go over too well. He had confirmation of that once he climbed the stairs and met his son's stare.

"You can stay on watch if you want but I just wanted to let you know we have to make a run. Glenn, Michonne, and Karen are coming with me and I'm leaving Tyreese in charge. We're…going back to Woodbury."

"Why? And why Woodbury?" Carl narrowed his eyes.

"It's our only shot at finding what we need for Daryl."

"So he's gotten worse?"

Rick shifted his gaze out toward the gate. The others were ready to go. "…In a sense."

"I'm glad Tyreese is in charge then." Carl turned his back to Rick and walked over toward the other side of the tower to look out over the field. "Hope you don't get everyone killed risking their lives for Daryl."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Don't give up on Carl yet. I promise he will redeem himself. And I worked out my plan for the rest of this story so I now have an ending in mind. But damn do I draw things out way longer than necessary with added drama.

* * *

Carl watched as his father turned away, clearly biting his tongue from saying anymore. The teenager averted his attention out toward the vehicles and landed on Michonne, Glenn, and Karen. It wasn't long until Rick joined them and they all loaded up into the Hyundai, driving off through the gates while Tyreese and Sasha made sure to close everything back up.

Carl wasn't sure why he was so bitter lately. He just couldn't shake it. All he could do was take his anger out on Daryl because they couldn't move forward until he was back on his feet. But it just seemed like Daryl kept getting worse, and the more his condition worsened, the less likely it was that he'd bounce back or even make it. And now his dad was going out there and risking lives to find supplies in _Woodbury_? There was surely nothing good to be had from that not to mention the possibility that they might not even find what they're looking for to begin with.

He couldn't believe he was mere seconds away from actually trying to smother Daryl. He wasn't sure what possibly frightened him more: the fact that he even thought about it or the fact that he was close to going through with it. Then drawing his gun on his dad? The more thinking he did, the more he realized maybe he shouldn't be on watch. He needed to do something to keep his mind busy and staring out at walkers lining the fence wasn't exactly productive.

A small part of him wished he could have gone on the run with everyone.

* * *

Daryl sat up the best he could with his back supported by the wall. He was getting restless now that he was awake, the urge to just get up and do something minuscule never having daunted him this much before. But knowing his body wouldn't allow him that even if he tried and with Hershel by his side it was a lost cause. He grabbed the sheet that lay crinkled on the bed and pulled it over him.

"Don't understand why ya had to go and strip me down…" he muttered. The realization that he had been in nothing but his underwear all this time finally hit him.

"It was necessary to get you cooled off. You had a seizure due to your fever getting out of control. There wasn't much else we could do," Hershel explained. He sat in a chair someone had brought in earlier facing Daryl from across the small cell.

Upon hearing Hershel's explanation, Daryl fell silent. He lowered his gaze to the sheet he had pulled over him. Seizure? Had he really suffered from a seizure? Was he really that bad? Daryl had no idea. All he knew was that he'd been out for quite some time and that things didn't exactly piece together with his memory being a little foggy.

"I didn't mean to frighten you. Figured you'd want the truth." Daryl nodded as Hershel continued, "Think you'll be alright for a bit? I was planning on heading over to C, grab something to eat."

"I'm fine," Daryl replied.

"Would you like me to bring you back anything?" Hershel grabbed his crutches and made his way back onto his foot.

Daryl shook his head. "Don't even wanna try eatin' or drinking nothin' yet."

"I understand. I'll be back in a little while, though someone may beat me to it. We're all looking out for you." Hershel managed the smallest of smiles as Daryl did his best to return one. A couple minutes later and the cellblock fell silent once more after Hershel made his exit.

Daryl sighed and inched his way back down, lying so that he was facing the wall. He pulled the sheet up over his shoulder and shut his eyes to keep his vision from spinning. He might as well try and go back to sleep since he couldn't do anything else. His back was still hurting and nothing else seemed to be changing for the better. And knowing Rick, that man probably already left for his damn suicide run…

* * *

Carl gave it some time before he left the guard tower and flagged down Sasha to take over for a bit. He wanted to avoid the others if possible after the fiasco with the pillow and furthermore, he truly did want to check up on Daryl to see how he was doing since it sounded like he was awake. He quickly spotted Hershel and Carol along with Maggie in C Block so he assumed that meant Daryl was alone. He figured that was probably for the best anyhow.

But when Carl entered into D Block, he quickly realized that maybe it wasn't quite for the best: there were a handful of walkers roaming through the cellblock, one following another. And one of those walkers had just entered into Daryl's cell.


	13. Chapter 13

Carl didn't even allow himself the time to think—he just ran. He pulled his gun from the holster on his leg and shot down a couple walkers whose attention had been drawn to Daryl's cell after the one walked into it. Of course after firing his gun, he drew all of their attention to himself. He managed to slip past most of them, shoving their grabbing hands off of him until he reached Daryl's cell. He shot a walker that tried to squeeze in with him as he pulled the barred door shut with a _click_ locking him in.

Carl prayed Daryl had been awake and he was thankful when he turned to see that he was. Daryl seemed to have just barely got a hold of the walker that was trying to attack him, using the sheet to keep it from tearing into his flesh as Daryl had it wrapped around the walker's head. Carl took aim and shot it in the head as its body dropped completely onto Daryl at that point. With the added weight of the walker, Daryl collapsed back down onto the bed from his half laying, half sitting position.

"Daryl—" Carl pulled the lifeless body off of him, the weight crashing to the floor. There was a bit of blood splatter from the shot Carl took but other than that, Daryl seemed unscathed.

Daryl wiped the dark blood off his face and cringed. He caught his breath before looking over at Carl. "What the _hell_ was that?"

"I don't know—they're getting in somehow." Carl glanced back toward the bars. The walkers were all lined up and pressed against them, their arms reaching in toward them. "I pulled the door shut so we're locked in here… Are you okay?"

"Define okay…" Daryl mumbled. He slowly sat up and braced himself on either side before turning his attention to his right shoulder and wiping at it.

"You weren't bit, were you?" Carl stepped forward to get a better look at his shoulder for himself. It looked a little red.

"No, used the sheet. Kept him from biting directly." Daryl sighed, "Had that call been any closer, I'd have been walker bait… Thanks, kid."

"Don't mention it." Carl slid his gun back into the holster and crossed his arms. "I'm sure the others heard the gunshots. They'll be here shortly. No point in wasting the bullets and creating more noise than necessary."

Carl had been so focused on staring at the walkers just on the other side of the bars that he didn't realize Daryl had gotten up. He caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye before he noticed Daryl was getting dressed.

"Hey—should you even be up?"

Daryl scoffed. "I ain't just gonna hang 'round in my underwear waitin' for the entourage. Need ta get up and movin' eventually." He sat back down on the edge of the bed to slip his pants back on followed by his shirt. He grabbed the top bunk to get back on his feet and finish pulling his pants up the rest of the way before buttoning them.

Carl could only smirk. Even though Daryl still wasn't back to his normal self with the sickness and all, he was pretty damn close.

* * *

Rick had brought the Hyundai to a halt about half a mile away from the gates of Woodbury. After some discussion, it was decided best to leave a little space between the vehicle and abandoned town in case the noise had drawn in more walkers or anyone else's attention. The last thing they needed was to be swarmed by a herd. Just going to Woodbury was bad enough.

They had to dispatch a few stragglers along the way but it was easily manageable. Though when the gate to Woodbury came into view, Rick swore he felt his stomach drop. The gate was no longer standing operational—it looked as if someone had plowed right through it.

Glenn and Michonne visibly tensed up beside him, Karen at a loss for words. That's when they all noticed the smoke lingering through the air from a fire that had smoldered out. _Someone_ had returned to Woodbury and _someone_ had tried to burn it to the ground. It almost gave Rick that eerie feeling that the Governor was closer than he thought.

"Maybe we should go back. We don't know what's in there," Karen tried.

"The damage looks like it's already been done. I don't think we're going to have any surprise guests waiting for us. The fire's already out," Glenn observed.

"This was our one shot…" Rick muttered, running a hand through his hair and sighing. What were they supposed to do now? They couldn't just turn back and return to the prison empty handed. Daryl's life counted on it.

"There might still be a chance. Not everything was burned. I say it's worth a shot." Michonne turned to Karen, "Where did he keep all the medical supplies? That building might be standing."

* * *

C Block fell quiet at the sound of the first gunshot. When three more rang out after the first, everyone rushed into hiding who was unable to wield a weapon. Those that were capable had grabbed up their guns and knives ready for an attack.

Beth hurried into Rick's cell where all of Judith's things were kept, the baby hugged to her chest. The rest of the group formed a small huddle of the sorts.

"Those gunshots sounded like they came from D Block," Hershel voiced his opinion. "Daryl doesn't have anything but his knife and crossbow."

Tyreese immediately stepped up. "I'll go check it out."

"I'll go with you," Maggie volunteered. "Carol, you should probably run out and check the guard tower. You have your gun?"

Carol nodded. "Always."

"Then it's settled. Everybody get back in here as soon as possible. I'll try to manage everyone in here in the meantime." Hershel declared just before they split up. Carol headed outside to collect whoever was on watch from the guard tower while Maggie and Tyreese pushed on to D Block. Tyreese had his hammer while Maggie carried her machete in the holster dangling from her belt. She also had her gun if things got too hairy.

The pair approached the door to the cellblock and took a deep breath, unsure of what they were about to face. Tyreese pulled the door open and led the way, hammer raised, but froze soon after once he saw what had been the cause of a few gunshots.

"Oh God—Daryl!" Maggie ran toward the cluster of walkers swarming the cell door with Tyreese in tow.

"He's okay!" Carl's voice rang out just as the pair began to take down the walkers. That was when Maggie noticed Carl was inside the cell with Daryl, both of them unharmed, and the door pulled shut. Carl must have come to the rescue in the nick of time.

Tyreese took care of the last two walkers bashing their heads in with his weapon of choice before he walked back toward the cell. He noticed the dead walker on the ground inside the cell with them before turning his gaze to the boy."You two alright?"

Carl nodded, answering for them. "Close call but we're okay."

Tyreese grabbed the keys from off his belt to unlock the door. Rick had handed them over before he left with the others to return to Woodbury.

"How did walkers get in here in the first place?" Maggie questioned. She looked Carl over through narrowed eyes. She almost had a feeling this had something to do with him considering he was up to no good earlier.

"No clue. I just came in here and saw them." Carl seemed to narrow his eyes back at Maggie.

"I'll go see what the problem is. They have to be coming in from somewhere down there, right?" Tyreese glanced down at the opposite side of the cellblock.

"Just be careful. And don't try and be a hero. If it's too much, get back here," Maggie reminded him. Tyreese nodded before he took off out of sight. She turned back to Daryl and seeing that he was okay, she sighed in relief. Maybe Carl was telling the truth. How would he have been able to lure that many walkers into the cellblock by himself without somehow alerting someone first? She was just thankful he made it to Daryl on time.

A few minutes passed and Tyreese still hadn't returned. Maggie was beginning to get antsy. "Carl, stay here with Daryl. I'm gonna go see what's taking Tyreese so long."

"You ain't goin' alone," Daryl protested. He was fully dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed, his stare locked onto Maggie.

"Well, you're not coming with me. You need to stay here. Don't make me lock you in there," Maggie threatened. She received a glare from Daryl at those words.

"He's been cooped up all this time. We'll keep an eye on him," Carl insisted. He exchanged glances with Daryl and Daryl gave him a little nod.

Maggie bit her tongue. She really didn't want Daryl up and about in his condition but Carl had a point. Daryl would go crazy if he was confined to that cell any longer, especially with everyone going to investigate the walker situation without him.

"Fine, but stay close."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** My apologies for the wait. I have everything planned out for this fic, I swear. I just haven't been in the mood to write it I guess.

* * *

Daryl was already well aware that getting up and walking probably wasn't his best choice. He felt groggy and weak, his back still hurt, but he was sick of well, being sick. He was sick of doing nothing but lying around. And now that there were walkers coming in from somewhere… Truthfully, he didn't want to be alone. But he didn't want to be locked in that jail cell either.

The trio stayed close together, everyone armed. Daryl only had his knife and with the way he was feeling, he highly doubted he'd even be able to take out a single walker if it came down to it. But it looked like that wouldn't be a problem though as they rounded the corner. Tyreese must have dispatched a few more walkers before exiting through the door that was still left open a crack, daylight filtering through.

"Tyreese?" Carl called out to the man as he approached the door, gun raised. He glanced back at Daryl and Maggie, Daryl providing him with a nod. The kid slowly pushed the heavy door open and stepped outside with caution.

Daryl followed behind Maggie but mostly found himself staying in the doorway. Tyreese had immediately caught their eyes, the man sitting on the ground with his back propped up against the wall just outside the door. He was clearly distraught, holding his head. Maggie stooped down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. And that's when Daryl noticed what must have stopped Tyreese in his tracks.

"They must have been playing, ran through this door to go outside and met their death. Never had the chance to close the door back up…" Tyreese muttered. "They didn't know any better."

Daryl tore his stare from the two children of Woodbury who had been ripped apart by walkers. They were completely unrecognizable by this point and the sight had a wave of nausea hitting Daryl. He tried to shake it off as he gripped onto the doorframe, Carl quickly making sure to support him.

"What do we do?"

* * *

Karen had led the way toward the building that Michonne had spoke of in hopes for any medical supplies they could possibly salvage. Rick wasn't about to completely give up all hope. Not everything had been burned down. And when Karen announced that it was still standing, a wave of relief washed over the man.

The four entered into the building right off the bat and were surprised to see that it had practically been unscathed. Rick started grabbing a little bit of everything he could get his hands on: a few prescription bottles, different medications, bandages, gauze, sterile equipment, and what was necessary to run a few IVs.

"I'm gonna step outside and keep an eye out. Looks like you three have everything under control," Michonne stated. Rick only nodded in gratitude at the woman's intelligence. He had been so flustered in finding this stuff that he had completely forgotten just what they could be dealing with. And with that, Michonne stepped outside.

"I can't believe he didn't come back for all of this. This is practically a goldmine—assuming he was the one who burnt this place down," Glenn suggested.

"He may not have been," Rick replied. "But Michonne's right. We need to keep an eye out. Probably best we get out of here as soon as possible."

Karen grabbed the backpack they had brought with them from the prison in which they could toss all of the supplies into. They wasted no time in doing so, collecting the scattered remains of anything that could prove to be useful. With the way things had been scattered about, it left Rick wondering if someone truly had hit this small building before them.

They had just crammed the backpack full, barely getting the zipper to shut before Michonne poked her head back in.

"We need to start moving," Michonne started. She must have caught the horror on their faces because she added, "Walkers. They're starting to make their way over. Last thing we need is to get boxed in."

Rick nodded as Glenn grabbed the bag and threw it over his shoulder. They each prepared themselves as they exited the building with their weapons in hand. There were quite a few walkers now roaming the abandoned streets of Woodbury but only a few had noticed them and gotten pretty close.

Michonne took care of a couple of them that had gotten in their way, maneuvering her katana with ease as she decapitated one and stabbed the other straight through its skull. The rest they had ignored and just kept moving for the Hyundai.

* * *

Carl kept a hold of Daryl by his arm as he felt the hunter shift. He had most of his weight supported by the doorframe and Carl was starting to feel a bit uneasy—with the new discovery and Daryl's lack of strength. He didn't want to insult him by keeping a hold of him but Daryl hadn't made a fuss about it.

"Maybe I should have stayed back…" Daryl mumbled.

"You need to stop being so damn stubborn." Maggie shifted her stare towards him and almost as soon as she did, Daryl seemed to slip into unconsciousness again, his body starting to fall forward. Carl had tried his best to keep him upright but Maggie's assistance was what ultimately stopped him from hitting the ground.

Carl exchanged glances with Maggie before they each looked down at Tyreese. They had just received their confirmation that Daryl was indeed in no shape to be up and moving and Tyreese had yet to move since they found him.

Carl cautiously glanced back toward what was left of the two children, wondering how they even made it over here in the first place. His first thought was that whoever their parents were, they were careless. But then it occurred to him that those kids may not even have their parents anymore. But that didn't explain the ignorance of their actions, running outside without being armed or letting someone know. Perhaps Carl had just grown up a lot more than the other kids that were still standing.

"How about you come back in with us for a moment? We can figure out what to do and how to go about all of this," Maggie offered Tyreese.

Tyreese looked back up at what was left of the children before tearing his stare away and nodding. He got back to his feet and upon noticing that Daryl was unconscious, he grabbed hold of him and fully supported his weight while Maggie and Carl led the way back into D Block. They made sure to close the door back up on their way back.

Carl and Maggie stayed just outside of the cell as Tyreese got Daryl situated back on the bed.

"I better go check back in with C to let them know—" Maggie stopped abruptly. "…To let them know we're okay. When we heard the gunshots, we feared the worst."

Carl realized then that she was mostly talking to him seeing as Tyreese had been with her when the gunshots had occurred. He also realized she was trying to be careful with what she said and how she said it, neither of them too sure how Tyreese was taking the death of the two children. Carl had almost felt numb to it all and he assumed Maggie was just about the same.

Maggie left to return to C Block while Carl stayed put with Tyreese and Daryl. He wasn't sure if there was anything he could say, or should say, so he stayed quiet. He briefly wondered how things were going in Woodbury with his dad and the others.

"I guess we could get the walkers piled up," Carl suggested. He figured it would keep them busy. Tyreese only nodded, remaining silent.

The two pulled the single walker out of Daryl's cell and started working on a pile a little further down, dragging the bodies toward where they had started coming into the cellblock. They were down to the last two before Tyreese spoke up.

"I had a daughter before all of this…" he began. "I can't imagine how this is going to work out. These people came here looking for a safe place and now this… There's gonna be an uproar. I just hope the others make it back soon—for our sake and Daryl's."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** I truly apologize for the ridiculously long wait. I think there may only be one or two more chapters left and this story will be finished. Finally. Hooray!

* * *

Maggie made her way back into C Block only to find herself being greeted by a couple armed men from Woodbury. They lowered their weapons immediately upon recognition as one called out to everyone that it was safe. She was impressed to see that everyone had resorted to hiding in the cells, armed. The place was eerily quiet when she had first entered.

"Everything's under control," Maggie announced to the cellblock. It seemed to put everyone at ease even further and it allowed her the space she needed to share her information with the appropriate people. She spotted her father and closed the gap between them as Carol, Beth, and Sasha closed in around them. "Daryl's okay. Carl had walked into D Block just in time to find walkers and take care of them. But we have another problem."

"Another problem? Like what?" Beth inquired.

"But how did the walkers get in?" Sasha added. Everyone's eyes were searching Maggie's face.

"That's the problem. Two kids must have been playing unsupervised. They went outside and didn't get the chance to close the door…" Maggie averted her gaze to the floor.

The small group fell silent at her words, giving her the impression they understood exactly what she meant without having to further explain herself. And for that she was thankful.

"…So, what do we do?" Carol spoke up.

"I think it may be best we keep this to ourselves, if only for a little while. We wait until the others return and discuss how to handle it," Hershel offered.

It may not have been the right thing to do but no one declined. There was another silent understanding that passed between the five, their heads bowed. Of course they were perfectly capable of handling something like this—they had to be if a time came that the others didn't return. But they weren't sure how the people of Woodbury would take it.

It wasn't much longer after that when a woman's frantic screams filled the cellblock. "Billy! Sarah!"

The middle-aged woman weaved in and out of the surrounding people until she reached Hershel, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Please—have you seen two young kids? Sarah and Billy. They were playing around here the last I saw them and now I can't find them…"

Maggie found herself staring at Carol. She wasn't sure if it was because this all reminded her of when they lost Sophia or if she was expecting Carol to know what to say to the distraught woman. But Carol met her gaze and nodded.

"We'll search the prison and see if we can find where they ran off to." Carol spoke with such ease, her face wiped clean of any emotion that would suggest she was hiding the truth. She did seem to frown just ever so slightly though.

And now it was Carol who was staring back at Maggie while Maggie returned the nod.

* * *

The sun was beginning to set, the mixed hues of reds and yellows casting their final glow of the day by the time the Hyundai had come to a stop just outside the gates of the prison. Rick had instantly spotted Sasha up in the guard tower before she waved and headed down the stairs to come let them in. There were a few straggling walkers that smacked against the sides of the SUV but once Sasha had the gate open, they were ignored as Rick drove into the prison yard.

He cut the engine and everyone exited from the vehicle as Sasha jogged over to them.

"There's been a bit of a problem since you guys left," Sasha filled them in.

Rick froze just as he grabbed the backpack from Glenn. "Problem?"

"Daryl's fine. But you might want to stop by C."

Rick looked to Glenn, Michonne, and Karen but he didn't need to say a word.

"We'll go. You head to D and I'll let Hershel know you're waiting for him," Glenn spoke.

"Thank you." Rick nodded. He knew whatever this problem was, he should probably tend to it. But he told Carl he would step down. He wasn't so sure there was much he could do anymore anyway. And the only thing he truly wanted to do was get the supplies to Daryl and get him back on the mend before he could somehow end up even worse off.

So, Rick did just that and took Glenn's advice as they split up and headed in their own directions.

* * *

Glenn led the way back into C Block. If it wasn't for Hershel hobbling his way over, their return would have almost gone unnoticed.

"Rick?" The older man questioned.

"He's already in D. We were able to grab quite a bit so hopefully it helps," Glenn replied.

Hershel seemed to smile with his eyes as he gave a quick pat on Glenn's shoulder and exited the cellblock. As for him, Michonne, and Karen—they didn't get much further before a woman approached them.

"Did you find them?"

Glenn exchanged glances with Michonne, both coming up confused. "Find who?" Perhaps this was the issue that had come about since they left for Woodbury.

The woman had become hysterical at his question. "What on earth have you been doing all this time then?"

"I'm sorry, but we have no clue what's going on. We just got back. We've been gone most of the day," Karen explained. Michonne shot her a narrowed glare but Karen shrugged. The trip to Woodbury wasn't necessarily for everyone to know about.

"You've been _gone_?" The woman repeated Karen's words, her voice rising and catching a few others' attention. "What did you leave for? Where did you go?"

"Look," Glenn sighed, "It's nothing to worry about. One in our group is sick and we found some stuff to help him get better."

"Sick?—Was this person bit? Is it contagious?" The woman took a couple steps back. She shot a look in Karen's direction, "You've kept this from us?"

* * *

Rick had briefly been filled in on what had happened by Tyreese, Maggie, and Carl after having spotted fresh walker blood on the floor. Daryl was awake, sitting on the bed with his back propped up against the wall, Carol by his side. And when Rick heard the familiar sound of Hershel's crutches, he stepped out of Daryl's cell long enough to greet the older man.

"Glad to see everyone return safely." Hershel stopped just at the doorway to the cell. His eyes wandered over the spilled blood but otherwise disregarded it. "Glenn tells me you were able to find the supplies?"

"Yeah. We got lucky, that's for sure." Rick gestured toward the backpack he had already set down beside the bed and Hershel made his way over to the vacant chair next to it. "It looks like someone tried to officially put an end to Woodbury. The place was mostly burnt down."

"The Governor?" Carl questioned.

"Most likely."

Hershel nodded. "Makes sense I guess. Keeps anyone else from using it. Lucky for us, he didn't take everything with him."

Rick watched as Hershel pulled an IV bag from the backpack and hooked it onto the top bunk before working on getting a needle. The older man had found a small alcohol wipe and cleaned the backside of Daryl's hand with it. He then opened the package containing the needle and proper equipment needed to insert the IV into the back of Daryl's hand.

"Ya didn't see him anywhere?" Daryl spoke up, his own eyes locked on the needle as Hershel worked. He slightly cringed once the instrument pierced through his skin.

"No sign of him."

"Rick, why don't you and Tyreese head back over to the others? See if you can get things settled. The truth is going to have to come out sooner or later." Hershel turned to look over at the two.

Tyreese only provided a weak nod.


End file.
